


Fractals

by cannedpeaches



Category: The Last of Us
Genre: Gen, Hurt No Comfort, I'm Sorry, Mild Gore, Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-12
Updated: 2020-07-12
Packaged: 2021-03-05 05:08:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 377
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25219045
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cannedpeaches/pseuds/cannedpeaches
Summary: The last moments.
Comments: 6
Kudos: 31





	Fractals

**Author's Note:**

> SORRY Y'ALL

The first hit, he'd been able to take. Even with his leg ripped up and his hands bound, the cold sting of the club across his skull wasn't anything he couldn't handle. His ears rang, his scalp burned, but he remained sitting upright, still looking the woman square in the eye. Her face was screwed up with rage and hatred, her limbs twitching like wild animals when she readjusted her grip. He braced himself for the next strike when she raised her arms and screamed. 

By the fourth hit, he was winded; on the fifth, he finally felt something give. He was knocked onto his right elbow, panting as the pain in his torso lit his thalamus in red. He'd felt that sharp sensation before: She'd definitely busted one of his ribs. 

Two broken bones on the day? Tommy was never gonna let him hear the end of it. 

_ Tommy.  _

He cut his eyes toward his prone brother, but before he could see whether Tommy was breathing, the smooth rod of the handle cut across the bridge of his nose, reopening his scar along its seam. His vision exploded into white bursts and red splatters. 

It was then that he wondered whether he would get out of this one alive.

When the next strike tore away a piece of his ear, he knew he wouldn't.

Her first hits had been testers. Knowing the strength of the club now, the woman hefted it with an accuracy so painful that the inside of his head rang like a bell. Only the crunch of bone and cartilage cut through the peal. 

Someone was crying quietly. Tommy? No, closer… 

He didn't realize it was him until the club forced from him a cry so loud he choked on the knot of blood gathering in his throat. Lying now on his right side, he felt the floor beneath his cheek growing warm and liquid. 

As he lay there, a small corner of his brain screamed at him.  _ Joel, get up! _ The voice was familiar.  _ Joel, fucking get up! _

Then the red obscuring his vision became something else, became ripe red apples, the roan of horsehair, red hair, red hair… 

_ Ellie.  _

_ Joel, please get up-- _

A now-familiar whistle through the air, then nothing.

**Author's Note:**

> Two more fics in the works after this one? Well see if I can shake them out of my brain.


End file.
